A Fangs Hunt
by 1-1 Marines
Summary: Jason is the top assassin in the CIS. And one of the best when it comes to operating solo. So Director Lou naturally gave him a mission; stop the FLF from gaining access to CISes orbital assets via a traitor named Fang. Rated T for violence in later chapters. Darker than Puppy Love. Written with Mojotheomegawolfs help and Jason's his OC.
1. Chapter 1

**ME: Alright, as I said in the summary, here's a story concering Jason, a reason for the existence of bed-wetters and the bad guys grim reaper. He's Mojotheomegawolfs OC, so thank him as without Mojo I wouldn't have written this story. And there is real-life stuff in this fanfic, plus a significantly ****darker tone if you will.**

_"My name? Jason. Past? Even I don't know and CIS is none the wiser. Hobby? If blowing some guys head off with a fifty-cal sniper rifle counts, then yeah. Friends? Nope, I only get a partner whenever I'm put in for significant recon or assassination jobs, and even that thankfully hardly happens, so I'm mainly alone in the field. Profile amongst colleagues? I'm 'That Guy. The Directors Personal Killer. The One Who Carries _TWO_ Sharp Knives.' And the truth is I _AM_ that guy."_

Some called him "X" even though those who referred to Jason in that manner knew his real name. But he didn't care.

Why?

He was an agent of the Canine Intelligence Service. He was one of the top snipers in the world. He was a member of CISes PHYSINT Branch for a reason, and it wasn't to become a social animal.

He was to shoot his targets in the head since no one could be hurt by a dead guy.

As he remembered those facts he walked down to the Directors office. The few canines and a few cats that had to be either visitors or liaisons that noticed him tried to avoid his gaze.

At least they had a silent understanding with him.

A couple of the braver office workers looked him in the eye briefly before shuddering away.

Was one brown eye on an otherwise all-black Anatolian Shepherd THAT repulsive?

Finally he made his way to the overall Directors new office. Security had been tightened in light of traitors being revealed, so armed guards made for a secure perimeter as he approached.

"Where's your identification sir?" a big-boned one inquired. Jason didn't answer and instead simply gave him his ID card. After both card and Jason being inspected thorougly the guard returned the card.

"Alright, you're clear. Just pass the checks at the door and you should be fine."

Jason nodded and went to the door. It was a necessary pain but still very much annoying for anyone who had to meet the Director.

"Welcome!" a female computer voice greeted him. "Please comply with the following security measures in precise order; paw scan, retinal scan, voice verification and keyboard-inputed password!"

Great. But he merely silently complied. Ten seconds of his right paw being on the scanner resulting in a torturous beep, a pair of excessively bright lights took in his mismatched eyes, the two words he said into the microphone were, "Agent Jason", and the typing of the password: V-A-C-C-I-N-E.

Fitting considering the means of the Directors legendary unintended recruitment.

Finally the woman "thanked" him and Jason stepped inside past the now opening blast doors.

"Why hello Agent Jason!" Director Lou said all-business. For someone teased about supposedly ugly sweaters he must've not gotten the point of the comments, for the Beagle wore a navy-blue blazer, an open white dress shirt and gray pants.

Nerd of all nerds.

"Sir," he replied. "Honor to be here Director."

"Honor's mine," replied the glasses wearing dog. "I trust you have a good idea of why you're here, correct?"

"I believe I've been selected for whatever Herculean task I'm needed for."

The Director nodded. "There have been leaks," he said as the Beagle tapped away at his laptop. He pointed behind Jason, who nodded and turned just in time to see a casualty list of both MEOWS and CIS operatives.

"I know sir. We lost a lot of good agents in LA, but I fail to see how this concerns me."

"Internal Affairs revealed Kitty and the Feline Liberation Front had moles on the inside for years. The highest one of which is a Pitbull by the name of Fang."

Now a thuggish-looking Pitbull took up the screen. Jason growled. "Sir, that guy was the dog in charge of all of our California operations. What kind of canine does that to his own?"

"Fangs kind apparently. When he realized we were coming after him he and a lot of the traitors stole a plane and attempted to escape. Air Force scrambled a couple of fighters and intercepted him."

"Then how is he still alive?" the Anatolian Shepherd asked.

"Missile that got fired off blew off one of their wings. Had it been fired a second earlier we wouldn't have had this discussion, but past is the past. Crashed into the Pacific. Recovery teams retrieved quite a few bodies but not Fangs."

The Beagle then took a deep breath. "SIGINT just got word of a deal he and a few other turncoats-some of whom are MEOWS operatives-made with a high-end FLF member that has ties to the Russian Mafia; in exchange for safety in Moscow, they're gonna provide codes for our spy satellites. I don't want the bad guys even having one space-based camera, so your primary objective is to destroy the data via any means necessary to prevent the FLF from gaining control over our assets. Peeks is working on a virus that'll delete everything including itself when all the other stuff on whatever system they're using is wiped clean. Secondary objective is to capture high-level participants of the deal for questioning."

"Sorry for interrupting," Jason began, "but I've got questions Director. First off, where will I be going and when to stop this? Second, what if I can't capture that FLF boss or the rogue agents?"

"You'll be flown to St. Lawrence Island in the Bering Sea. You've got two hours until we stick you on the plane. And if you cannot bring in any particular targets, do what you do best."

"Kill them. Roger that sir," the assassin nodded.

"Good. I've got paperwork and bureaucrauts waiting to see me, so dismissed. Just as a sidenote, you'll get additional information later."

**ME: Okay, looks like Jason just got the most important mission of his life. Stakes are pretty high ladies and gentlemen. Reviews and PMs to help make this story better will be appreciated by me.**


	2. Chapter 2

**ME: I gave Jason a 2-hour window, so now he gets his equipment.**

_"Report to the Armory in PHYSINT Wing."_

That was what Jason got on his phone. After the security checks of course.

Now he made his way to the Armory. The fact he had nearly two hours to kill was making him anxious.

Hopefully his trusty M82 could reassure him.

"Agent Jason?" a technician inquired.

"Yes?" Being the Directors personal assassin didn't mean he regularly got attention up close. And when he did it was trouble nine times out of ten.

"I'd like to introduce you to the Barrett X-M-Five-Hundred. A new tool for your kit. Just rolled off the assembly line today!"

Jason nodded, keenly observing the prototype. It was a bullpup design with the magazine _behind_ the trigger. Picking it up the Anatolian Shepherd found it was slightly lighter than his older rifle, as well as having a stationary barrel instead of a rotating one like the M82 did. Potentially more accuracy. And it had a built-in suppressor as well as a fancy-looking scope.

"I'm gonna set up a target down in the shooting range," the tech suddenly interrupted his observations. "And the scope? It can switch between infrared and night-vision with literally the push of a button."

"Nice," Jason commented. "Must cost a fortune."

"Thank you Captain Obvious. Try to avoid breaking anything or my boss'll make me the newest janitor around here."

He nodded and walked down a short flight of stairs, cursing silently upon realizing he'd have to make his way back up them. Finding the cardboard cutout he settled in and readied himself to shoot.

"Alright," came the order. "Do it."

There was no verbal response as Jason had already finished making sure he had a round chambered. So he simply fired.

_BANG!_

There wasn't anything left of the "bad guys" head.

"Impressive. Looks like the computer guys gave us accurate simulations."

"Yep," the agent simply replied as he safed the XM500, ejected the magazine and the last bullet in the .50 cal sniper. Reinserting the lone round, he carried the rifle in his back and made his way back to the armory.

"Okay, I've got two Bowie-style knives and a modified Point-Forty-Five, but if your file's correct I don't need to go over them with you."

"Right. Anymore big surprises?"

"In a fitting package." Suddenly the guy rolled in a mannequin with some futurstic clothes covering it.

"It's the Mark-One Black Ops Suit. Prototypes've been field-tested, so you're not the Guineau Pig of CIS. At least when it comes to the suit."

"Yeah," Jason muttered. "Is it me or does the helmet have built-in binoculars?"

"It does. As a result this particular Mark-One is the only known Sniper-class currently in existence, made for either solo long-distance assassins or guys in pairs. So okay, I guess I may've lied in that regard."

"Wont shoot you for that. Can you store all the ballistic protection somewhere else?"

"What? Why?"

He sighed. "I cannot get in a firefight. Do that and I'm dead."

The tech nodded and took the vest and pads away himself. "Don't know what you're missing..."

He tunread to find the Agent already fully dressed in white. "Can't wait to get my ghillie suit."

"Wont that be nice." At this Jason found his helmet switched on. "Whatever you do, do NOT lose this. Only reliable way of keeping in touch with HQ. Plus you'ver got GPS and all."

"Great kid, thanks. Now if you'll excuse me I've got to go be a living killing machine."

**ME: How was that for Chapter Two?**


	3. Chapter 3

**ME: Update time!**

Being an agent in CIS meant seeing the world. The means of which in this case being a plane.

But Agent Jason, trained assassin and sniper, didn't reflect on this as the loadmaster onboard checked his equipment.

"Alright!" the other dog said. "Looks like you're all good!"

The Anatolian Shepherd nodded in thanks just as a radio transmission got to him.

"Jason, it's the Director. Do you read me?"

The cool response was immediate. "I read you sir. Ready for briefing, over."

"Copy. Fang and his crew are hiding out at Northeast Cape Air Force Station, a Cold War-listening post/surveillance and radar base. FLF sent in some hitmen to bolster security, so be alert. Avoid the local humans; this may be a remote island but I don't want word getting out about this. Over."

"Understood. Backup and extraction?"

"This is a solo operation. MEOWS didn't have agents to spare and you're the only one I could send. Soon as you're done or have to bug out call us and we'll have you outta there ASAP. Over."

"Very well boss. I'll get back to you as soon as I'm on the ground, out." With that he cut the link.

"Two minutes!" the pilot called.

"Got it," he replied as he adjusted an important piece of equipment. "I can breathe."

"Roger, opening door."

At this Jason readied himself. Screwups would result in death, and he'd go out another way.

"Thiety seconds and counting."

Stay calm, stay calm...

"Now! Go, go, go!"

At this he jumped into the cold air. Just as the island came into view his parachute deployed and made him slow down.

Unfortunatly he landed on a shrub. Great, a black mark on a otherwise perfect record for the jump.

"HQ, this is Jason. Insertion complete, over."

"Copy that. Move to a secure area and initiate radio check as soon as you're in position. Over."

"Wilco control. Jason out."

With that he unslung his XM500 and moved out.

**ME: Suggestions are appreciated. How was this?**


	4. Chapter 4

**ME: Alright, time for some more spywork.**

**JASON: Staring me!**

**ME: Are you OOC or a Gary-Sue now? Note there is descriptive violence.**

"Jason to HQ, radio check. Over."

Hopefully he would get a response. Weather wasn't being kind to him as usual durin assignments.

"Agent Jason, this is the Director. Somehow I read you. Provide sitrep, over."

He drew a cold breath. "I'm in position to infiltrate the hostile stronghold sir. Repeat, ready to commence with the infiltration. Over."

"Copy Jason, but hold your position!" Something was up. "We have new intelligence on the security of the hideout."

_Now_ they tell him this? "Alright boss. Please send intel, over."

"The Russian middlecat sent a unknown number of armed goons to protect Fang and his fellow traitors. Avoid contact unless there is no alternative, over."

He nodded to himself. "I copy Director. Interrogative: When will the Russkie show his ugly face? Over."

"Tomorrow, I say again, tomorrow. Do what needs to be done Jason and he wont get those codes. Good luck, out."

At this Jason shut down the link. Now he set off on his trek, rifle at the ready. There were a few guards manning posts or on patrol but he avoided them.

Slipping into the main building of the abandoned base he dodged a few triggermen and found what he was looking for; a out-of-place desktop computer in a history museum exhibit.

"Jackpot," he whispered. Pulling out the flash drive he inserted it into a open USB port and got to work.

_"Warning:," _the virus program cautioned him as he moved it from the flash drive to the computer, _"upon activation of this virus, EVERY item of data on whatever computer system is being used will be destroyed, including this virus. Please confirm you wish to activate this virus."_

He affirmed. Making sure to remove the flash drive first.

Suddenly Jason heard footsteps. Drawing his twin knives he turned around just as two cats with AK-47s walked in.

He had no choice. Just as they noticed him the Grim Reaper threw his KA-BARs at the guards.

The one to Jasons right was hit in the heart and went down without much of a mess. The one on the left however was subject to less precise aiming and took his knife to the neck.

Jason sighed as he moved to finish off the less-fortunate target. The Russian pulled out the knife and screamed in pain.

Grabbing his neck and twisting he put him out of his misery.

Afterretrieving his knife he looked to find the other one having gone into shock. Or something else. He still did him a common courtesy and made sure he didn't have to suffer any longer than necessary.

The true villain would pay the price. And it would not be an accident.

Never looking back Jason left the base, reminding himself as his role as a sniper.

The only targets that absolutely had to be eliminated were high-end guys, the head of the serpent. Decapitate it and the body went down quick and easy. Everyone else was a victim of circumstance.

"HQ," he reported, "this is Agent Jason. I need to be connected to the Director ASAP, over."

"Copy sir," a young voice replied. "Patching you through now, standby."

After about a minute a certain Beagle began to speak to him. "Jason, I'm here. What's your status?"

He cleared his throat. "Sir, primary objective achieved. Repeat, enemy ability to access our orbital assets compromised. Over."

"Roger that-anything else?"

"Sir, I had to take down two guards. Say again, I had hostile contact."

"You realize what this means right?"

"It means my job just got a lot harder Director."

**ME: Looks like someone's in trouble.**


	5. Chapter 5

**ME: Sorry I haven't updated in awhile guys, school really has been a pain. Anyhow, here's my update!**

If there was one thing Lou was grateful for, it was the highly-advanced control center that made monitoring missions easier.

"Confirmed visual on hostile helicopter," a technician suddenly said. "Repeat, a helicopter is inbound on the area."

"What type?" Lou asked.

"Sir, hostile aircraft is a Mil M-I-Twenty-Four, codenamed 'Hind.'"

The Director sighed before tapping his headset. "Jason, it's me. Heads up, the Russian cats coming in."

"Roger," was the cool response.

Lou then focused on the screen, which tracked the Hind as it moved.

"Boss," Jason reported in his ear, "Fang just stepped outside. Say again, target in the open."

"Hold your fire," he ordered. "Two more minutes and your real target'll be on the ground."

Finally the chopper landed, its rotors still turning as the Russian stepped out with four armed guards.

"Cat's in the open sir," Jason said as the traitor approached the Russian.

"Take out the Russian Jason," Lou responded. "Fang's no threat without the data."

"Copy," Jason said, "target acquired. Neutralizing now."

He then fired and the Beagle could only watched as the round penetrated the cats skull, killing him instantly.

One of the technicians belatedly reported the death just before Jason suddenly fired a second shot, this one hitting Fang.

"Jason!" Lou shouted. "What were you thinking?"

"Both targets-."

"Never mind!" He told the Anatolian Shepherd. "Get to the extraction point now!"

"Wilco."


	6. Chapter 6

**ME: Sorry for taking so long to update guys, hope this'll be a good one. Note: There will be profanity.**

**JASON:**

Moving to the waypoint sent, Jason was almost in a forest when Lou contacted him.

"Jason, bad news. The Russians Hind just took off and is searching for you now, how copy?"

"Copy that sir," he responded. "Any word on the bad guys on the ground?"

"Maximum at least ten, not including that Mafia cats guards."

He nodded. "Roger, I'll do my best Director. Interrogative: We got anything to knock out that Hind?"

"Negative Jason, you're just gonna have to avoid it and get the Hell off this island. Over."

The Australian Shepherd shook his head. "Negative sir, last thing I need is a bird with a fifty-cal screwing things up."

"Jason, do not engage the chopper. Repeat, hold your fire!"

He ignored Lou, the large attack helicopter coming into view already. Settling down behind a tree, he aimed for the main rotor.

"Three, two, one-."

BOOM!

With the main rotor now on fire the Hind lost control and began to spin around. Jason almost smiled darkly-then he noticed the Mi-24 was headed towards him.

"Aw shit!" He cursed, the sniper now getting up and making a run for it.

He almost made it too.

**ME: You like guys?**


	7. Chapter 7

**ME: Time for a rescue. And some major cursing.**

**DIGGS:**

"Alpha One," Butchs said, "this is King. How copy?"

The German Shepherd responded instantly. "Solid copy King, go ahead boss."

"Agent X shot down the Russians Hind but it crashed and injured him."

"Damn it!" Diggs cursed.

"Don't worry, we're already transmitting his location to your chopper. Get there and secure him for extract, over."

He nodded. "Understood Butch, me and my team will get it done. Out."

Diggs turned to the pilots. "Got his location?"

"Yes sir!" one of them answered. "We'll be on station in about six-to-seven minutes!"

"Good, but try and hurry up!" He then addressed his team. "Lock and load Alpha, time to earn our pay!"

The elite Task Force Zero operatives responded quickly, fastening helmets and loading their weapons.

Eventually they finally arrived near the crash site. "Can't land right now," the pilot reported. "LZ is too hot."

"Then lemme try and cool it down!" Diggs responded as he opened the left cabin door. "Boot, man the minigun on the right!"

Cocking and spinning up his own minigun, Diggs fired at the FLF soldiers. Most of them were killed within the first three seconds by both him and Boot. The two survivors tried to run but were cut down.

"Alpha One to Agent X," he said into his radio. "Please say status, over."

"X here," a voice coughed in response. "Thanks for showing up Alpha, I was almost out of ammo!"

"No problem X, sit tight. We'll get you out soon." He turned to the pilots. "Get us down there!"

At his command the ropes lowered and Alpha Team rappelled down. Diggs found a wounded Anatolian Shepherd and moved to him.

"You're gonna be alright, okay?" The dog only known as "X" nodded. "HQ, Alpha One. HVI secure, I repeat, we've got X. Ready for extraction, over."

"Roger that Diggs," Butch responded.

"HQ to Alpha Team!" Lou shouted. "Be advised: We have fast-movers inbound! Say again, you've got fighters in the AO!"

"Shit!" One of the pilots cursed. "Fuckers locked on-."

A missile suddenly closed and detonated, reducing the Black Hawk to scrap metal.

**ME: Well this is just great...**


End file.
